Sixth Sense
by John Wilde
Summary: A new cluster of six is born; though on the other side of the war. Forcibly they are recruited to help build a utopia or face the same fate of those found by the BPO. Though one of them is already doomed. SYOC.
1. Born in a Boat

**A/N: I just wanted to start by saying that I have been wanting to write a Sense8 story for a while and a Submit your own character is the perfect format.**

 **Also the point of view will often change from first to third; due to the mechanics of the show. Anyway enjoy.**

* * *

I tried my best not to scream. I tried to focus on the gentle rocking of the sea, as I laid in a small boat, but the pain was too much to keep in. Primal growls escaped from my throat with every spasm and cramp. My strange request to the townsfolk to leave me alone while I rowed myself away off the coast and they could easily ignore it if they thought I was in danger. They were very kind people and respected me enough to follow my request. I made all the arrangements as soon as I sensed I was going to birth a cluster. Despite the agony of what I was experiencing, I was looking forward to meeting them and teaching them like Auigo taught us.

"I'm feeling reminded of when Helene gave birth. Though it wasn't in a little wooden boat." Maksym said, as gently sat me up and spooned me from behind. His cold arms were a small comfort against the hot sun above me, but Maks being here was more than a little comfort. However, it was also and incredible danger.

"Maks ... what are you doing? We agreed ... you'd stay on the blockers."

Maria suddenly appeared by the other end of the boat. "We agreed to support you Kalolo, and we are doing just that."

"But -"

"But nothing," Maks argued tightened in him around me. "We are the only ones left. We want to be here as you continue our family."

I felt a warmth in my chest that caused me to cry. After that, I couldn't fight it anymore. I couldn't keep it in. I began to cry out in pain. I felt Maks's helplessness and Maria's anguish from my pain. Though like me they were excited and worried. Excited to meet and know these new people, but worried about what they were being born into. Although it has felt safer since the Cannibal disappeared, he left a big shadow that plenty other monsters would be happy to fill.

"Don't think about that now, my island man," Maria said, as she held my feet. "You're going to be a father."

"Jesus Christ!" I yelled; sounding more pained than I intended to.

My grip on Mak's hand was violent, as we laid on his bed. The room was tinted yellow from their bedside lamp. Helene was wide awake beside us. I was touched to see her, but I also felt guilty. It was 2 am in the Ukraine. I had probably woken them up.

"I'm cooking you breakfast in bed later," Maks told Helene when his hand started to turn blue.

"I would like that offer better if it wasn't inspired by one of your invisible friends giving birth in our bed."

In Ecuador with Maria, she was smoking in a lawn chair on the beach. I was withering in the empty seat next to her.

"This was the closest I could be with you physically. You're probably facing me."

Despite the overwhelming emotions and pains happening to me I could still sense Maria's feelings. "I know you don't ... approve."

Maria sighed; the smoke blew out her nose like the dragon she was. "What is the point in bringing any more people into the pain of being one of us."

"They are already one of us. Besides it's far too late, don't you think." Maks argued, as he knelt in the sand and held my hand.

"Fuck!"

We looked over at Maria who was looking up at an invisible entity. I didn't need to see her to know it was our Neapolitan friend.

Lila took a drag from Maria's smoke, much to her annoyance. "I hope I'm not too late. I didn't have enough time to get a gift."

Maria grabbed back her cigarette. "Leaving would be a good enough gift."

Wickedly Lila smiled before she straddled Maria in her seat. "Oh, that Latin fire," Lila leant into Maria, so their noses brushed on another, "I miss the heat." She said with a sigh.

"Coldblooded creatures are often attracted to heat." Maria countered before blowing smoke into Lila's face.

Lila thinly smiled before she leant away. She studied Maria's stony face. "They're, here, aren't they? Please let them know we appreciate them bringing more to the cause. If we want our Utopia, we are going to need plenty of extra hands to build it. Especially now that the Cannibal is missing, the collaborators at the BPO will be too busy squabbling amongst themselves to be the new top dog."

"I'll be sure to let them know."

Maria looked back at me trying her best not to look how she felt, which was scared. "She's gone, but she wants to use them."

"There is no way in hell we are going to let that happen. She's deluded if she thinks there could ever be a home just for sensates." Maks argued. "We are born in separate parts of the world for a reason."

"We might not have a choice," She argued, "Hurry up Kalolo; we might as well get it over with."

At her urging, I reached deep while trying to ignore the pain. I focused on my connection and the energy unfurling throughout my nerves. Slowly I felt reach out toward them, my children.

* * *

 **A/N: The only definite things are that there are only six spots and they have to be 26 years old. The rest is up to you. I'll also post the form on my profile if you can't copy and paste here.**

Form

Name:

Gender:

Nationality:

Skills:

Celebrity look-alike (Doesn't ahve to be 26, but around that age):

Personalty (Detailed):

Family:

Job:

Background:

Anything Else:


	2. Cold Blood Realization

I could see them creep low in the long pale grass like they were lions and cheetahs native to this continent. The pitch black night hid them from the torch lit huts, but not from my scope.

"You bastards are lucky it's a cloudy night," I whisper into my comms. "I can see your asses jiggling from here."

 _"Not the time for jokes Long-Shot. Any Jellyfish on the exterior of the site?"_

I turned my rifle and scanned the area again. "Negative. They remain in the interior. I've counted three different jellyfish."

I continued to scan the area, but I often went back to the unit. There were six of us not including the sensate assigned to us. I hadn't met Branston because I had to set up an hour in advance, but his bio didn't inspire trust. His name was Branston Walsh an Irish gambler, he was part of a cluster of three, that he happily threw under the bus. I didn't trust someone who was quick to betray those closest to him.

 _"She can fucking talk. She's out there on a hill, away from all the danger and mosquitos."_

I saw the line stop, as Turner whipped around and grabbed the Branston by the collar.

 _"Listen here Jellyfish. We don't fucking need you to capture these people. I could gut you in this field and not face any repercussion because everyone here would have my back, because we have loyalty. Unlike you."_ Tommy growled. I saw him unsheathe his knife.

"Tommy!" I warned.

After a tense moment, Turner shoved the sensate away. _"Just do your job Jellyfish."_

Tommy Turner was the finest man I knew. Loyal to a fault, funny, but he had a short fuse. I'm forever surprised he made it through SAS recruitment. I kept my scope on them for a few more moments, before checking the location again. My job was to wound or kill any sensates that flee the scene when the team starts to raid.

The three sensates I spotted matched the intel we'd gathered. It wasn't uncommon for sensates to locate to rural locations to avoid detection. The tactic is a smart one, but there are risks, risks that we are exploiting. Isolation is a double-edged sword, but we are anticipating that they have made contingencies.

I turned my rifle back toward my unit, but then something caught my eyes.

"Hold!" I ordered the unit.

I changed the focus on my lens, and then a man came into view. He looked to be in his early forties and an Islander, which was strange for him to be here, but what was stranger was he was looking right at me from 600 metres. I looked up from my gun, and he was gone, but then my eyes darted to my right, and he was suddenly standing above me.

"Mackenzie." He whispered.

Then he was gone, and I suddenly had a splitting headache. I clutched at my head as I cursed. This couldn't be happening. He had to have been a hallucination; there was no way. If he was a sensate and I saw him suddenly teleport, then I had to be one too, but that was impossible. I'd had the brain scans and the blood tests. BPO would have killed me or captured me if I was. But I couldn't shake the feeling the instinct that I was a sensate. A jellyfish.

 _"Mack, are we clear?"_ Turner's voice cracked through.

Oh shit! Tommy. What the fuck am I going to do about Tommy? I shook my aching head, trying to gain clarity. I couldn't think about that right now; I had to stick to the mission.

"Clear."

The team quickly left the grasslands and entered the location spreading out around the hut. Branston was glued to Turner's behind. If I am a sensate, then he's going to have to die. I'm going to have to make eye contact with him at one point or another.

" _On my count, we are going in."_

 _"Three, two, one!"_

I zoomed out to get a full shot of the hut, as the unit stormed the shelter except for Turner and Branston. I saw the flashlights from their side arms move around through the window.

 _"Put it down! Put it –"_

The hut imploded the force of the explosion knocked Tommy and Branston to the ground. I looked up from my scope, and I see the fiery hut from here. The noise sent silence throughout the area. I dismantled the rifle and slung it over my shoulder. I had to get to Tommy. I ran down the hill to where the quad bike was hidden. I ripped off the camo net and drove there as quick as I could. The hut was like a beacon and became larger and warmer the closer I got. Everyone in that hut was dead. I had to make sure Tommy was okay. He had to be.

I spotted a body laid face down in the dirt with blonde hair, and I knew it was Tommy. I couldn't spot Branston. He'd probably ran off into the dead of night. I hopped off the bike and took the keys just in case.

I ran and gently flipped him over. "Tommy! It's Mackenzie."

There were shallow cuts on his face, and he was falling in and out of consciousness. I checked his eyes, and there was uneven dilation. "Thank god it's just a concussion."

Tommy grabbed my hand. "My gun … he took my gun."

I immediately reached for my sidearm, but I already felt the barrel of glock on the base of my skull.

"Well isn't it the Lady Sniper. Right now you're as useful as a Kerry man with a Hurley. Aren't ya!," He grabbed my side arm. "Get up!"

Tommy's grip on my hand grew more fierce. "No, no!" He wheezed.

I squeezed Tommy's hand before I pulled it away and discreetly grabbed his knife. My right side felt uncomfortable warm in contrast to my left that was facing the cold night. I knew Branston would want the keys and the only reason he hadn't just shot me and taken it meant he also needed a guide.

"Turn around!" He ordered.

My head pounded almost like a reminder. I knew I had a chance, if I timed it right or if what this migraine meant was true. I turned around, and it felt like slow motion. The heat changed as I spun. The gun was the first thing I saw, and luckily it was too close to me. Branston then came into focus, and his dark brown eyes went wide in surprise.

"You're a sens –" He began, but I grabbed his wrist with the gun and stepped into him.

The knife pierced his jugular, and I strangely felt a pressure in my neck in the same spot. The warmth of his blood as it splattered on my face, was cold compared to the fire. My eyes never left his as I watched the life leave him.

When he was gone, I pulled the knife out and let him drop. I stood there frozen in the realization of what I was – am. What the fuck was I going to do?

"Mack," Tommy whispered.

I rapidly blinked as I came back to the present moment. I squatted beside Branston's body and grabbed back our side arms. I froze when I found the blockers. These little black pills were my life line now. I dragged Branston's body to the fire, then got Tommy over to the bike. I saw his eyes were closed and quickly slapped him.

"Stay awake Tommy!"

His blue eyes tried their best to focus on me; after a moment he nodded slowly. I hoped onto the bike and drove us into the dark.

* * *

 **A/N: Mackenzie Mitchel was submitted by Oreh Keats and is one of three submissions I've accepted. Only three male spots are left. Check the previous chapter or my profile for the character form.**

 **Let me know what you think of this chapter in a review.**


	3. Flour and Cocaine

**A/N: Two spots left in the cluster.**

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I liked the routine of baking, mainly I loved the dough. I loved kneading it with my hand and flattening it with the roller. The sensation of it against my skin was calming. I baked whenever I needed to relax or when I thought of Antonio.

I dipped my fingers in the bowl of flour and sprinkled it over the dough, falling on it like snow. It forever reminded me of our family's visits to France.

I remember running down the winter kissed field chasing Antonio and Giacomo. Despite the gloomy weather and chilly air, we were so happy laughing, screaming with every time we caught one another. Mostly I remembered Antonio's rosy cheeks and his brown eyes that matched my own, but they carried so much more innocence than mine. Those were happier times before we woke up to the reality of what our family was.

"Avia!" Albi called out.

I couldn't help but sigh in annoyance, as I wiped my hands on my apron.

"Yes?" I asked as I stepped into the front of the shop. However, I instantly froze, when I locked eyes with a shirtless, sweaty man. He had short dark hair and eyes so full of love. He gave me a happy, nervous smile, that showed off his pearl white teeth. He was acting like he wasn't standing half naked in the middle of my shop. Despite how weird I thought it was and he was, I couldn't help, but feel like it was normal like he was familiar. He reminded me of my father despite having nothing in common with him.

"Ottavia?" I looked away from him to Albi. My head immediately started to feel like a tin can being squished by a truck.

She looked at me with concern, as she stepped toward me putting her hand on my back. "Are you okay?"

What a strange question. I wasn't the one standing around half-naked in the middle of the shop. I turned back toward the man, but he was gone. Was the stress finally getting to me? What a strange thing to imagine.

"I'm fine. What is it?"

Her concern was replaced with caution, she leant toward me and whispered. "There is a man here. He says Giacomo told him to leave something here."

I looked over her shoulder at the guy. I knew all of my brother friends and the people who worked for our family. He was tall, lanky with long red hair and dressed in baggy Nike clothes. He wasn't one of them.

I leant toward Albi's ear. "Get the shotgun out the back. I'll use the gun under the counter."

She nodded before disappearing to the back. I put on a soft smile for this stranger, before going to the counter. "Hello. I've been told you know my brother."

He nodded fervently before he put a Nike canvas bag onto the table. "Yes, yes. He asked me to drop this off with you. Said you'd understand."

I discreetly grabbed the gun and put it on the counter. His eyes bulged at the sight of it. He held up his hands like he was the one being robbed.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Cesare Romano. I-I - "

"I don't know your face. I don't know your name. Giacomo would have called me and told me you were coming. So what the fuck are you trying to pull?"

"He couldn't call, his-his phone wasn't clean and that your parents couldn't know. Listen I'm not here to mess with you. Only a fool or-or a desperate man would try to steal from a member of the Santavella family. Just look in the bag okay."

I looked at him blankly for a moment. My migraine was stealing most of my focus. "Albi?"

I heard her come around the corner and cock the shotgun.

"Oh shit!" Cesare whimpered.

"Keep the gun on him," I asked, before putting my gun back under the counter.

I slowly unzipped the bag, hoping it was simply money. Instead it was five bricks of white powder.

I rolled my head back. "Fuck Giacomo!"

I zipped the bag back up, before putting it under the counter, before looking Cesare dead on the eye. "No matter what my brother says to you, Cesare. Don't ever come back here with this shit again. Is that clear?"

He nodded madly, before running out of the shop. I leant down onto the counter, pressing my head against the class hoping the cold would ease my migraine, but all I ended up doing was staring at Chocolate Amareti Cake. Albi knelt beside me and looked into the bag.

"Oh." She commented.

"Oh is a massive understatement."

"What does he think he's doing?"

I couldn't really answer her question. I didn't understand it myself. Giacomo has always been brash, but he wasn't stupid. The lesser evil would be to think the brick were for his personal use, but I knew they weren't.

"Trying to prove himself like an idiot."

"He knows your father doesn't want to get involved in drugs."

"All Giacomo sees is money. More money for the family that he'll be in charge of one day."

"He could be. You are his twin Avia. You have just as much a right to it as him."

"The difference is I don't want it."

Albi wasn't the first person to bring this up with me. She wouldn't be the last. Both Giacomo and I had a chance to be in charge when the time came but took myself out of the running. I didn't want to fight with my brother. I was happy with where I was in my bakery. I, of course, still helped the family, but only to launder money. I felt my relationship with my family was more important than power.

I took off my apron and walked around the counter. "Hide the bag and look after the shop while I'm gone."

"Where are you going?"

"To give Giacomo the beating of his life."

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 **A/N: Ottavia Santavella was submitted by TheNightGirl let me know what you think of her in a review.**


	4. Chess on the Beach

**A/N: Firstly, I'm so happy we are getting a finale episode.**

 **Secondly I know I haven't updated in two weeks, but there are now going to be regular chapters on Saturdays or Fridays AEST.**

 **And finally I also now have a complete cluster. Jeremy was submitted by TashaGoulding98.**

* * *

I hoped playing chess outside in Hyde Park would sooth my aching head, but there was no change. I couldn't remember ever in my life having such a severe headache, or waking up to one. The pain was so violent it woke me from my dream. Just like in my waking life I remembered every part of the dream. I was floating in water so blue it rivalled the cloudless sky. I knew I was in Samoa, but I didn't understand why. Why not Hawaii or Ibiza? Then I drifted near a boat, where a pained shirtless man who reminded me of my mother. Her warmth, pride and love for me, but I also saw fear. Not of me but for me. Then the dream changed as sunk under the surface.

I spun the white side of the chessboard towards me. Black could have white in checkmate in three moves, but if I put my bishop in the right spot, then I can push it back to seven. Is the sacrifice worth the risk, because it opens white to checkmate in six moves?

I tried to look for a better alternative. I chattered my teeth in thought. I could sacrifice a knight for a black castle, but then that opens black to get a check with their queen.

"You could try moving your king's pawn forward."

I looked up to see the man from me dream sitting across from me. I don't know how he got there, but he was there. This time he was wearing a faded red shirt, which wasn't all appropriate for the cold climate. I looked down at the board and mapped out his suggestion. I could either get the last black castle in the next turn unless the white queen stopped me, but then my king would take her.

"Makes sense," I mumbled as I acted out his suggestion.

"Thanks. I like to think I could play a game or two."

"Not the move. You're obviously a figment of imagination. I'm good at chess so should imaginary friends."

"Imaginary friends?"

I nodded. "I haven't had imaginary friends since my mum died, but I remember they made me happy."

He smiled at me like my mum. She would listen to my worries and pains without a speck of shame or pity.

He reached out and moved a white pawn. "Are you unhappy Jeremy?"

I shook his question away and looked down at the board. He was trying to bait me with the pawn so that he could get my bishop. I moved my pawn in front it so that we were blocking each other. If he didn't move his bishops pawn in the way, then I could get his knight.

"Thanks for the tip." My Figment said, before turning his bishops pawn into my castle's path. I looked up at him confused.

"You think loudly and so passionately. I couldn't help but hear it, despite our connection being so fresh." He explained.

I couldn't help but laugh. "Passionate?"

"Passion is not measured by volume, frequency or by the subject that inspires it," He placed his hand over his heart. "Passion is feeling. You love chess, and I can _feel_ it."

"You're not imaginary."

He shook his head with a warm understanding smile. "It is amazing to meet you; my name is Kalolo, and I'm ... kind of your father."

His insanity provoked so many thoughts. He couldn't be my dad, the first time I saw him was in a dream under a hot sun. The memory caused a strange pressure on my mind and in an instant; I was sitting in the sand staring at a fading sun and a calm dark sea.

"Beautiful isn't it?"

I nodded like a fool; slow with every muscle in my neck moving, as my eyes wandered. How? That word - that question was the strongest thing in my head. I dipped my hand in the sand feeling its every texture. I gripped it in my hand.

"I can feel it," I said mystified.

"You can feel it because I can feel it. Just like I can feel, " Kalolo reached out and put his hand over my heart. "What is in here."

I felt the warmth and pressure of his hand as I place mine over it. I thought it was strange how intimate he was with me. Not romantically, but just as a man. Men didn't touch hands unless it was a high five or a handshake. Men -

Kalolo pulled his hand away, and we were back in the park. "Men hide too much. I certainly did, but then I found my cluster so I had to get over and I've never been happier."

"Cluster?"

He frowned in uncertainty. "I ah ... I'm not sure how to explain it. It is practically a miracle you haven't run off or flipped me the bird like the others."

"What others?"

"Your cluster ... I have so much to tell you."

* * *

After escaping from the hut to HQ. Tommy was taken to medical, while I was stuffed in an office to wait for a debrief. I wouldn't need to rehearse a story. I just had to stick to the truth, except the fact that I was sensate. I popped a blocker as soon as HQ came into view. I wasn't sure how long this batch would last, but they usually lasted 4-5 hours. I didn't have to worry about exposure at least for today. I saw Kalolo again before the effects kicked in. I didn't know how I knew his name, but I did, the same way he knew mine.

The door burst open, and General Jong walked in along with two suits. One grey one black. The one in black was closer to my age, very generic looking which told me he was a spook or former spook. The one in grey was older with grey hair to match. He seemed like a politician or perhaps another former spook.

The black didn't follow his colleague to sit at the desk. "Aren't you going to stand for your superior officers?" he asked with a thick American accent. I was wrong about him being a spook. He was a bureaucrat. A spook wouldn't give a shit. I fucking hate corporate military, he's probably never done anything in the field.

"This isn't the real military. And you are not my superior."

The black suit took a step toward me, but Jong put his arm in front of the suit, before motioning for him to take a seat at the table. "Please understand Mr Smyth, that Captain Mackenzie is selective with who she respects, but due to her track record we've learnt to accommodate."

General Jong is a former member of the North Korean military and a man I did respect. He was a good person.

"How's Tommy?" I asked.

Jong was about to answer me, but the black suit cut him off. "He'll live. Unlike the rest of your team." He quipped as he sat down directly across from me.

I could practically smell the bureaucratic bullshit coming off of him. "Now tell us what happened?"

I really wanted to kill this guy. I had to grip to chair to control myself. "I'm not too sure of the specifics, but the jellyfishes activated an explosive after the majority of -"

"Jellyfish?" Black suit interrupted.

"Just jargon. Our codeword for sensates." General Jong explained.

"Oh alright. Continue."

I sighed, before continuing. "The majority of the unit stormed the hut and I heard them say over the comes to put it down, then an explosion occurred killing all within. It knocked Tommy and ... Walsh to the ground."

"What happened to Walsh did he escape?" Black suit interrupted again.

I was getting sick of him cutting me off. How was I suppose to properly debrief, when I only asked specifics. "Long story short I stabbed him in the throat," I rubbed my fingers over my jugular as Smyth visibly stilled. "Right here. Then I chucked his corpse into the fire. That clear enough?"

"Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"Branston Walsh was a blue level asset that had ties to the Archipelago and the infamous Chemist. I literally set fire to the biggest lead we've had the last two years."

I could see Jong was attempting to hide his amusement, while Smyth looked annoyed.

"I read the intel packets you give us."

"They're sixteen pages long." The grey man stated, speaking for the first time.

"I usually have to wait one or three hours alone in silence and boredom. The dictionary would be appealing, all four hundred and ninety-nine pages."

The grey man and Jong smiled, while the man in black looked annoyed. The grey man was the one in charge. "I'm curious how long have you been with us."

"Two years."

"How many confirmed kills?"

"With BPO or in total?"

"Both."

I was unsure why this was important. This was all in my file. "Seventy-two here ... two hundred and sixteen in total."

The grey man whistled in admiration. "I can see why General Jong gives you some flexibility. You measure up to your reputation."

"The Shadow," The man in black, said mockingly. "I was looking at your first name by the way. How do you pronounce it? S-e-a-g-h-d-h-a. What is that Arabic?"

"It's Irish and its why I go by Mackenzie. Why the sudden interest in me."

"Because we know what you are?"

I didn't react or say a word. I should assume what I think they're talking about. I gave no sign or indication to what I was. I couldn't have.

"We've been waiting for the moment when you'd finally reveal yourself."

I leant forward in my seat so that I could discreetly grab my ankle gun. I didn't see anyone in the hall, and I knew exactly the quickest route to the vehicles. I could grab supplies and a phone on the way no sweat. I'd call Aran tell her to take John and the kids and run. I'd be sorry to kill Jong, but I would if I had to.

"And what am I exactly?" I asked, my heart thumping.

The grey man smiled at me. "The elite of the elite. Major Turner confirmed what you told us and more. You saved his life twice. You ensured that there was no trace of the BPO left behind and most of all you did not let the asset escape. Sure we'd prefer he were alive and leashed, but dead is better than free."

"You have qualities that put you above the rest. We have plenty of people who can shoot a gun and follow an order. We want to promote you from the hunter division to Operation Nomad."

"What would that entail?" I asked as I holstered my gun.

"You'll regularly be travelling with a small unit of five, though you'll be based in London. Your job will be focusing on the top ten list."

The situation sounded ideal. I would be in an English speaking country, where some of my old unit lived as civilians and no doubt the pay was better. I just had one concern.

"Is there a sensate in the unit?"

"No. Though you will be asked on occasion to deliver blockers and gather info from collaborators."

It was as if the universe was lining itself up for me to be okay. I could easily skim off the delivery. I would have far easier access to blockers than where I was now.

"I have one condition. Tommy comes with me. I work better when he's with me."

"That's it?"

I nodded, and the man in grey rose to his feet, black suit and Jong mirrored him. "I'll see you both in London when Major Turner gets better."

Jong walked them out of the room; nodding to me proudly. As soon as the door shut. I let out the deepest breath, as I started to hyperventilate. I just couldn't believe how close I was to being caught. Deep down I knew that eventually, my luck would run out.

* * *

 **A/N: Let me know what you think in a review. Do you like Jeremy? Is Mackenzie digging herself in deeper? See you in a week.**


	5. Coffee, Family and Shakespeare

When we first came from Poland to America, my brother Martin and I came there for very different reasons. He came to learn how to help people by being a doctor. I came for a much more selfish reason. I came for art.

America was a country full of art and culture. Not to insult my homeland, but I came because I wanted more. I know I could have gone anywhere to find that, but this was where Martin wanted to go. Due to the intensity of a medical degree, Martin had little time for part-time jobs, so I worked here at the Brown Crown, as a barista. The only thing I'm qualified for.

"Charlie!" Cameron yelled into my ear, which caused me to jump.

"Yeah?!"

"Are your hearing aids on?"

I nodded, unsure why she was asking.

"Then why didn't you hear me ask you to got serve table twenty?"

I shrugged my shoulders, nervously. I didn't think the truth would be good enough for her. She rolled her eyes at me like I was a child. "Deaf and a foreigner." She said under her breath, before handing me a latte. "Just go to the table with this." She asked loudly, invigorating my headache.

I walked toward table twenty, and I wasn't surprised to see our number one regular. He always wore the same tweed suit and sat at the same table for the exact same period of time. I would think nothing of it if he wasn't so tall and ... handsome.

"Here you go."

He smiled at me as I put the cup in front of him. I was about to walk away, but he motioned for me to stop. He had taken a nervous breath before he started doing Polish sign language.

"Hello, my name is Issac."

I smiled in amazement. "Hi. You know Polish sign language?"

"I started to learn it when I realised you were Polish."

"You learnt it for me?" I asked, unsure why he would go to such effort.

"Yes. I wanted to figure how to ask you out."

I didn't think he signed what he was actually trying to say. Why would he want to ask me out?

"Sorry?"

He gave a short nervous laugh. "Would you like to go on a date with me?"

"Oh."

He looked at me his blue eyes full of hopefulness. I was shocked beyond words.

"So what do you think?"

"I think … why?"

"I find you attractive."

I lowered my head as I felt my cheeks turn scarlet. "I meant, why do you think I'm gay? I know I'm skinny and quiet, but –"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Look gay? Sexuality isn't indicated by physical traits. Do I look gay to you?"

In full honesty. Issac looked far from it. He looked like he belonged in a gallery of art. He had a strong marble build and jawline for days that carried soft stubble and snow white teeth. It was his kind eyes I liked the most. He looked like he could have any woman … or man.

"You look breathtaking."

Issac's frown disappeared in an instant. He opened his mouth to speak, but Cameron beat him to it.

"Charlie! We need you here!"

I gave Issac a small smile, before going back to work. Relieved for the first time that Cameron was so blunt.

It took me hours, but I managed to finally track him down to this seedy apartment block. It was seedy to the unsuspecting eye, but his apartment was far more flash and expensive on the inside. One of a dozen safe houses in Italy and one in five hundred in the world. I beat my fist against the door. "Giacomo!"

It didn't take long for him to open the door. His eyes were bloodshot, and his face was thick from stubble, but he smiled at me like he hadn't tried to blow up my life. "Hey, Sissy."

I didn't hesitate to slap him with the back of my hand across his face. He cupped his face in shock, and I would have hit him more if I didn't enjoy it.

"I have been looking for you for hours, Giacomo. Hours because you sent some little man to my shop to leave drugs. I am out of our old life."

"I just needed to keep them somewhere so - "

"Papa would find out. He would do more than slap you. Drugs? Don't you remember what happened to Antonio?"

"Of course I do! But we are the only family without any drug distribution. Do you have any idea how much that would increase our revenue?"

"As much as it would increase the danger." I grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and pulled him outside. I shut the door behind him.

"Where are we going?!" he asked.

"You are coming to the bakery; you are taking your shit with you, and we are going to show Papa."

He instantly tried to pull away, but I grabbed his ear. "Ouch! Avia, no !"

I stopped and pulled him around to face me. "You are my brother the only one I have left. I refuse to let you fuck up your life, because of greed. Those with a love of money will never have their fill. Do you understand?!"

I saw his resistance leave his eyes. He looked down in shame and nodded. "Yes."

"Good, then we don't have to go to Papa."

"Ottavia -"

"You don't need to say anything other than you stopping your white powder dreams and coming to my shop to take those drugs away."

He nodded vehemently. "I will ... on both counts."

I walked to the stairwell. "Then let's go, idiot."

"We will be focusing on two Shakespearean plays this term."

The classes reactions were mixed. Some were excited others annoyed, and the third category, (which I was a part of) didn't give a shit.

"Why Shakespeare? Isn't this a literature class, as in books?"

"William Shakespeare and his works have been the inspiration for many creative mediums for centuries."

"Why can't we do Brazilian literature?!"

"I see you have all learnt to speak your mind." He walked around the desk. "We discussed Brazilian realism last term and analysed the works of Joaquim Maria Machado de Assis. Now is the time to examine a writer that has had an international and generational impact."

"It's because he's white. Intellectualism has always been affiliated with white people." Rogelio exclaimed.

He aroused a roar of support to Professor Santos's amusement. "Where does this hate come from?"

"White people steal and appropriating foreign cultures all the time. White people rule the world. History has shown us that."

"I am a literature Professor, so I can't give you my professional opinion about this subject. However as a fellow Brazilian. I have to disagree. Our country - scratch that our continent was one of the few left untouched by the British Empire. Instead of red coats sacking our nation, it was men with the same skin as you and I raping and pillaging away an entire civilisation. We are also guilty of stealing and appropriating culture."

No one spoke. Rogelio certainly shut his mouth. The empty seat beside me was suddenly filled, the strange man from my dream had burst into applause.

"Wow. I wish I had had a teacher like him. I might have turned out a little differently." he thundered to me.

I looked around at the class, but no eyes were on him. It was if they were blind and deaf. He stopped clapping.

"Sorry if I'm embarrassing you. No one can see me, but still, I'm making you feel embarrassed."

"What do you mean no one can see you?"

"What was that?" Professor Santos asked.

I shook my head I just wanted to sit and learn. I didn't want to draw attention to myself. "Nothing."

"Come now. It seems like everyone is voicing their opinions in this class today, which is always a good thing."

I could hear the whispers and all I wanted more than anything was not to be here. I hated it when people pushed. I didn't want to talk.

I suddenly swapped places with the weirdo next to me.

"Well, Professor Santos. I agree with your passion and logic. I would, however, like to add something?"

He nodded his head for him-me to continue.

"Shakespeare, although he was an old white man, created something that connected to all sorts of individuals. That was his gift. For example, Charles Dickens, an uneducated man who became a literary titan, often quoted Shakespeare in his works. Nelson Mandela carried a collection of Shakespeares plays throughout his incarceration and Sigmund Freud one of the founders of modern psychology loved his poetry. Three very different men connected by two things. Greatness and Shakespeare."

"Your point?"

"We are more than where we are born or how or as what."

I was back in my seat, and no one spoke, but after a moment Professor Santos started to clap, and the rest of the class quickly followed. I looked over at Kalolo, and we were suddenly on the beach together. This place was too vivid to be another dream.

"I- I dreamed about you."

"In a way, yes. Though I distinctly remember you flipping me the bird."

* * *

 **A/N: That's all of the cluster but one of the cluster introduced. Let me know what you think of them in a review.**

 **Thanks to Igorfranca16, halle-effing-lujah for submitting Lune and Charlie.**


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